A Halloween Gift
by mattsloved1
Summary: It's Halloween and Sherlock is working on a treat for John. (A very late birthday gift for kamerer220.)


I do not own them so I can't profit from them.

Much thanks to Johnsarmylady and MapleleafCameo for their help on this.

I'm very sorry for the terrible lateness, kamerer220! I promise that I never forgot! The three words you chose are italicised. :-)

* * *

John Watson stopped abruptly at the sight in front of him. After a double shift, the good doctor had caught up on some much needed sleep. He had just emerged from the bedroom he shared with the curly haired man currently sitting at the table in their living room. The entire surface was covered with newspapers left over from their last case. Three large pumpkins sat on them, their removed insides now strewn across the inked paper. A variety of small cutting tools were organised close to Sherlock.

John was thankful to see the mystery _novel_ he had been reading earlier was moved to the sofa. Deciding he needed a cup of tea, he shuffled silently into the kitchen. A _chocolate_ pie rested on their kitchen table and he called out warily, "Did you bake a pie earlier as an experiment?"

Sherlock snorted, "No, Mrs. Hudson brought it up nearly an hour ago. Apparently, it is our Halloween treat to prevent any thoughts of tricking her later."

As he came back into the room, John smiled and sat down in his chair, "Because that was a real possibility, our playing a trick on her. She'll use any excuse to spoil us." Looking again at the innards near to Sherlock, he couldn't help but tease, "And what are you doing to the poor things in front of you?"

Sherlock scowled but didn't look away from his work. "I do wish you would more effectively observe since you have eyes that see and a semi-intelligent brain that can think when it chooses to. It is quite clear that I am carving the vegetable."

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. Let me be more specific and ask what are you carving into them?"

"See for yourself."

One of the two finished pumpkins was turned until John was able to read the words 'Don't Panic.' He grinned at the well known phrase. Since his teens he had loved the stories about a regular man who found himself in amazing, and sometimes ridiculous, situations. The likeness to the life he now led was not lost on him.

He looked up to ask Sherlock a question when he noticed the other completed _pumpkin_ had also been moved. There, for his viewing pleasure, was a well known police public call box complete with small light on top. It wasn't difficult to see these carvings had a theme and it was, 'Things John likes.'

Knowing Sherlock's lack of confidence when it came to things emotional, John wanted there to be no mistake about his feelings on what was being created just for him.

"I must say, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Doctor Who are two fantastic choices."

Leaning down far enough to reach a head of unruly curls, he affectionately placed a kiss on his beloved

"Thank you, Sherlock."

It was lovely to feel the thin body become boneless in the knowledge he had done something very right. Daring to take a peek, John was able to see the tiny smile pulling up the edges of the kissable lips. Not wanting to possibly embarrass his partner, he straightened and glanced towards the final, and unfinished, pumpkin sitting nearby.

"Nearly finished with that one are you?"

Sherlock tipped his head back to better see John's face, "Yes, very nearly."

"Would the time it takes me to shower and make us both a cup of tea be long enough?"

John could almost hear the calculations running through the busy brain before an answer was given.

"Yes, that should work perfectly."

After leaving one more kiss, this time on the lips, John left the room.

He made sure to take time with his shower and dressing before heading back into the kitchen. While the kettle heated up, John kept his attention focused on making sure all was in order. Shortly after, two cups of tea in hand, he paused wondering if he should check and make sure Sherlock was ready.

He opened his mouth to ask when the words, "Yes, I'm finished. It's safe to enter," rang out.

Shaking his head, he approached Sherlock and his eyes fell on the final pumpkin. This one was a bit more difficult to make out. John stopped just short of the table, handed over one cup and gave the carved image his full attention. Before too long he was able to see sails and the body of the ship they belonged to. He read the tiny words _HMS Sophie. _

"Master and Commander, very nice, one of my favourites."

A covert glance allowed John the chance to see the light shade of red colouring the cheeks he loved to nuzzle. Placing his free hand on the thin shoulder furthest away, he gave a squeeze.

"They're all very nice Sherlock, very nice indeed. What made you decide to make them for me? They must have taken some time considering the details."

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders but moved closer to John's side before speaking. "You didn't make us go to the party at Scotland Yard despite the many invitations. It seemed a good enough way to say thank you."

"Too bad we don't have any candles."

Sherlock turned and reached into a small bag that had been sitting on their coffee table.

"When I told her about my idea, Mrs. Hudson threatened me with violence if I used a real flame so I purchased these instead."

Looking at the package, John was able to see LED tea lights resting in Sherlock's palm.

Soon each pumpkin was lit from within. John admired the thought put into each gift as he rested his head against his partner's shoulder.

"I have an idea."

Sherlock hummed.

"I think we should order some takeaway and then you can teach me how to waltz."

John could feel the energy suddenly flowing through the body beside him.

"Really?" Long fingers curled in and out, trying to hold back the excitement fighting to escape.

Chuckling, the shorter man answered, "Yes, really. As long as you quickly clean up your mess and take a shower while I call the restaurant."

Showing he could move when he wanted, Sherlock was up like a shot and folding the soiled newspaper so it would be easier to throw away.

As he watched the tall figure move gracefully through their flat, John sighed contentedly as he once again thanked the fates that he had met the world's only consulting detective.


End file.
